The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

alone in the woods i don't care what you say
i wish i was a yankee in the boulders
the old man of the mountain crashed after the coin
i'll sit and think here it's the only place
my free body cragged in fissured time
i didn't know they could think that smart
geology is a rock in a rock
a rock on a rock is a stratum
nothing glows like inner glows in a stream
it's dark and shadowy streaming in these nice woods
the ground remembers a history of warmth
ground follows ground until something stops it
down below above is more of the same behind its back
black smokers harbor life i'd like to be
still me a different thing is alone in the forest
i wish i was a yankee there i wish i was a stone

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